


Tough on You 2

by helens78, Telesilla



Category: Establishment RPF
Genre: BDSM, Consent Play, F/M, Fisting, Kink, Sex Toys, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-18
Updated: 2006-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sean asks a few different people what they think of rape fantasies from the top's perspective, a good friend selflessly offers to do a couple of scenes with him -- one with him topping, one with her topping.  He got to go first, now it's her turn. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/44798">Tough On You 1</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough on You 2

**Author's Note:**

> As the tag and the summary say, this involves some pretty heavy consent play.

Looking around the room, Carrie-Anne is pleased. It has that Matrix look, bare and slightly dingy, which suits her own look, the full Trinity PVC gear, complete with a gun in a thigh holster. She glances at the clock in the wall -- 10:58. _Showtime,_ she thinks, reaching for the hard evil Trinity role she came up with for this scene.

Sean is, as usual, neither early nor late. He arrives at the room at precisely 11:00, and raps lightly on the door. Motivations are in place; he knows his reason for being here is to get out of the Matrix. It's only a matter of making contact with Trinity and finding out what it takes to get to the real world.

Keeping her hand on the holstered gun, Carrie-Anne answers the door. "You are Sean?" she asks, using the hard voice she used while dealing with the Merovingian.

"Yes," Sean says, taking in her outfit -- _Jesus fuck, that looks good on her_ \-- the position of her hand and the likelihood that she'll bring her gun out, the slight glimpse of the dim room behind her. There's a slight jog of nervousness in his throat, putting all the pieces of the scene together, but it's a good one. It fits the scene, and it gets him ready for what's coming. "I'm Sean... are you Trinity?" He sounds quiet, hesitant, almost as if he's ready to bolt. He'd like to trust her, but so far he doesn't know if it's a good idea. He's worried it might not be.

"Yes, come in." She backs away from the door, revealing what looks like a shabby studio apartment, complete with a seriously impressive computer set up. "Who gave you my name?"

"A friend of mine named Partridge," Sean murmurs, simply because it's the first thing he can think of. _Oh, God, I hope she doesn't lose it._ He steps inside and keeps looking around while he talks. "He sent your name before disappearing off the face of the Earth. Or the... whatever this is."

_Damn you, Sean,_ Carrie-Anne thinks, only barely holding on to her stern expression. Having Trinity's sunglasses on helps, but still she's biting the inside of her cheek as she nods.

"So," she says aloud, "you've had that feeling? That there's more to the world around you? That there's something just out of sight?"

"Ever since I can remember," Sean says quietly. "There's an answer out there somewhere. I'm not certain whether I'm looking for the answer or the question..." He wishes he could see her eyes, but then if he could see her eyes, it might be harder to hold on to character. "Can you help me?" he asks.

"The sad thing is that you came here thinking I could," Carrie-Anne replies, her inflection changing just a little. It's subtle, but there's a trace of Hugo's Agent Smith in her voice. "You, however, can help me." With that, she smiles tightly and draws the gun.

"I don't understand," Sean stammers. He backs up a step, both hands going to the door, searching for the handle. "Partridge said I could trust you..."

"If you take another step toward that door," Carrie-Anne warns, shifting her aim so that the gun is pointing at Sean's kneecap, "I will hurt you but leave you alive." She pauses and then smiles again. "For now at least."

Sean freezes in place. "What do you want from me?" he whispers.

"Everything, eventually," Carrie-Anne replies, gesturing a little with the gun. "For now? You need to be afraid of me. You need to learn that resisting me is useless." _Whoops! Almost said futile._

"All right," Sean breathes, and yes, he's got that sensation of fear sliding up his back, making Sean-in-role wonder just what he's gotten into and Sean-under-the-role think _Oh, Christ, this is going to be good._ "I'll do whatever it takes. Please -- calm down." Which almost doesn't make sense, because she's not _not_ calm. If anything, she's too calm.

"I'm perfectly calm," Carrie-Anne replies. "Take your clothes off," she says coolly.

"My..." Sean blinks hard several times, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. "No," he whispers.

"Take them off," she repeats. "You won't like it if I have to do it for you."

No, he won't, and that gets him moving. He shrugs out of his jacket, and doesn't waste time folding things up neatly -- just strips out of shirt, shoes and socks, pants, the mint green bikini briefs that Viggo likes so much... _Safeword,_ he reminds himself. _Remember you can stop this if it goes too far._

And then he's bare, and the room feels cold. He's hard, of course, and telling himself it's mainly because of fear and nervousness. It's not because he's completely at Carrie-Anne's mercy and she's holding a gun on him.

_You bastard,_ Carrie-Anne thinks, once more grateful for her sunglasses. _You wore that pair of underwear just to make me laugh._

"Well well," she says aloud. "This is interesting." She steps forward, sliding the gun lightly along his erection. "You're going to be a very interesting subject."

Sean flinches, but he doesn't step away from the gun. The cold steel feels rigid and dangerous against his skin, and he lets out a soft breath. "I don't know what you're talking about," he whispers. "Subject for what?"

Giving another tight smile, Carrie-Anne steps back. "In fear." She gestures to the bed with the gun. "Over there."

"I don't understand," Sean whispers, but he's already going, wincing a bit at the cold floor under his feet. He stops at the bed and looks over his shoulder at her. "If you wanted me afraid -- you've got me there. Put the gun down and talk to me. Please."

"Talk, talk, talk," Carrie-Anne says, sneering. "You people seem to think that will solve everything." She comes up close, plants a hand on his chest and pushes hard. "On your back."

She's close enough now. Sean lunges for her wrist with both hands, hoping he can knock the gun away from her -- or at least push her off-balance enough to send her tumbling to the floor.

Sean's fast, but he telegraphs his movements and Carrie-Anne steps nimbly out of the way of his rush, grabbing one of his wrists and twisting his arm up behind him hard. "That was a foolish thing to do."

Sean grunts harshly and tries to twist away from her; all it does is wrench his elbow harder and tell him he's not going anywhere. "You're right, _you're right_ \-- stop -- fuck -- please," Sean grits out between his teeth.

Carrie-Anne loosens up her grip without letting go and turns Sean so he's facing the bed. "On your back," she repeats calmly, trying to hide the little shiver of arousal at hearing him say please. She nudges him in the back a little with the gun as she lets go of his wrist. "Next time you try anything, I'll shoot you in the calf."

She certainly sounds convincing, Sean has to give her that. He nods and goes to the bed, stretching out flat on his back. He's still hard, and there's nothing he can do to hide it. He blushes, a hint of red creeping up his chest. Fear, arousal, embarrassment at the combination. _God, this is good._

Moving with Trinity's cat-like grace, Carrie-Anne steps up to the head of the bed and, keeping her gun trained on Sean all the while, quickly locks his wrists into the cuffs that are chained to the bed. "That should keep you from making anymore futile attempts."

Sean's eyes close, and he tugs hard against the cuffs, one long movement that gets his arms tense from wrists to shoulders rather than a quick jerk. "Fuck," he breathes. He looks back up at her, trying to make sure his breathing doesn't come too fast. "What are you going to do to me?"

"You answered that question yourself." Now that he's secured, Carrie-Anne slides the gun back into her thigh holster and takes up a pair of thigh to ankle cuffs off the table near the bed. She quickly fastens them, first to his thighs and then, efficiently bending his knees, to each ankle. She then clips a chain attached to the bed to each cuff, pulling his legs open enough so that he'll feel the strain.

It would be entirely pointless to struggle against the chains on his legs, and Sean already knows the ones on his arms aren't going to give. "Fuck," he breathes, and then he can't help struggling a bit anyway, despite the uselessness of it. "_Fuck._" The chains rattle under him, and he bites down on his lower lip to keep from cursing again.

_Jesus he looks so fucking good. Why didn't I ever put him in bondage like this before?_

Carrie-Anne casually strips off the long patent leather coat, revealing Trinity's latex sleeveless shirt and the opera length black latex gloves Sean gave her back in May. She grabs a small tub of Elbow Grease before settling on the bed between Sean's legs.

"Yes," she says. "You're repetitive, but you do have it right."

Christ, the _gloves_. Sean's eyes widen, and his breath catches in his chest. "If the point of this experiment is to inspire fear, you've got me there. You can stop."

"If I stop, you'd be left with a sense of escape," she replies. "The idea that you were able to talk your way out." She plunges her hand into the tub of lube. "And that won't do."

"No," Sean protests, "I'll understand you're stopping because _you_ want to. If you stop, it's because you have me where you want me to go--" Sean stops speaking abruptly. Every word is accurate, and the problem is that she doesn't have him where she wants him yet. And he doesn't know where he'll be by the end of this.

"You don't know where I want you to go." Almost casually, Carrie-Anne shoves two fingers into him hard. "But you will."

Sean clenches his teeth -- _relax, fucking relax, get open_ \-- and pants out several harsh breaths. The gloves. The rough, forceful movements. He can guess where this is going, and it's been a long time. He gets his eyes open and fixes them on the ceiling; he's making a quick trip into headspace, and doesn't know whether to fight it or let it happen.

_Oh yeah ... oh fuck yeah._ Carrie-Anne pumps her fingers roughly a few times before withdrawing for more lube. When she goes back, it's with three fingers. _Glad these gloves are as tight as they are; makes it easier to gauge how relaxed he is._

He wants it, wants to give her this part of him -- and he wants to struggle, wants to give her the rape scene they were both after in the beginning. It's a struggle between giving in and admitting to what he wants, and staying far enough out of headspace to keep himself angry and scared and violent.

_Don't tense. Just don't go tense._ Sean takes another deep breath and forces his body to relax. The clench of his teeth is gone, and he uncurls his fists, going loose against the cuffs.

"Disgusting the way you _humans_ are so easily aroused." There's a lot more Agent Smith in Carrie-Anne's voice now, and when she introduces the fourth finger, she curls her fingers up hard against his prostate.

Sean moans, the sound breaking over several harsh breaths. "If--" he begins, then closes his eyes and lets out another moan. "If I disgust you, why are you doing this to me?" The words are all soft, even; despite the racing of his heartbeat and the uneven, desperate rasp of his breath, he can keep his voice steady. He's fighting headspace hard now. He's not going to be able to pretend he doesn't want this for much longer.

"Because I like making an impression, Mr. Bean." She hopes he's far gone enough not to laugh at her use of his name like that. It's silly, but it's what Smith would do, and she's as much Smith now as she is Trinity.

More lube, a lot more lube, and she's tucking her thumb inside her fingers and pushing in. She's not as rough as she'd be if this were truly rape, but her advance is steady, not giving him quite enough time to adjust to the broad expanse of her knuckles.

"No--" and his voice has gone breathy, almost silent-- "no..." His eyes open again, fix on the ceiling, and he's _there_, hurting for her, wanting to give her what she's taking by force. "Please," he whispers. His voice takes on a much more solid tone, though it's quiet; it radiates an intense sense of focus, as if he's taking in every detail about his feelings and his reactions to her.

Sean's reaction, the fact that he's obviously made the move to headspace, doesn't keep Carrie-Anne from pressing the rest of her hand into him in that same inexorable way. But it does make her reevaluate the scene and where she was going with it.

_If it's no longer rape, then I don't need to hide behind the role anymore._ With her other hand she quickly discards the glasses and undoes the clip that's holding her hair back. "Good boy, Sean," she croons, using her own voice now. "Such a good greedy boy."

Sean breathes out, one long, steady exhale that seems to let all the tension out of his body. "Thank you," he murmurs. "Please. I'm..." He's not sure what he's begging for; he never is at moments like this. "Please hurt me," he whispers.

Moving forward a little, Carrie-Anne begins to fuck him steadily with her fist while reaching up to twist one of his nipples hard with her other hand. "Oh yeah ... gonna hurt you ... gonna fuck you hard." She looks down at him, finally letting her appreciation at the sight of him bound and helpless like this show. "And you're not going to come, understand?" she adds sternly.

"No, Mistress," Sean answers instantly. The words come out before he can plan them, and he knows exactly what he's said, but the implications and the feelings behind the word can be sorted through later. There's more to feel here, and he wants it badly now. "Please -- want to be good for you..."

"You will be, Sean," she answers, hiding her surprise at the term of address. "I know you can do it for me; know you can be a good boy for me."

He's never called her Mistress before, but then again until now, she'd never let them get into a situation where it would be appropriate. She's fucking him hard now and alternating between torturing his nipples, twisting the barbells hard. As occasionally happens in scene, she's struck by the aesthetics of it, the sleek black of her glove, the shining silver of the metal, all against his lovely skin.

"Thank you," Sean whispers again. He's been in this headspace before. This is a place where everything falls sharply into focus, and he can concentrate on everything at once. The way her hand feels inside him, the sensation of the slick glide of latex, her fingers twisting his nipples, the gleam of black against the paleness of his flesh. He can hear her breathing and his, can almost hear his heartbeat. "_Yes_," he breathes, "_please_, Mistress, I can be good for you."

"I know you can, boy." It's different than it is with Jason, Carrie-Anne realizes. _Sean is "boy" and for the moment he's giving himself to me, but he's not **my** boy._ "Warn me when you get close," she demands sternly. She leans over to grab a big plug out of the nightstand and then goes back to the rough fisting, watching in amazement as he takes not only her fist, but her wrist and part of her arm as well.

"Yes... please..." It hurts, and the sensation is one of the more extreme feelings he's had in years, and that, too, sends him far into this sort of desperate, intense headspace, clinging to it. Christ, it's a _beautiful_ feeling, familiar and comfortable but novel all the same, and all he can feel now is the pain and aching arousal and a rough sense of gratitude for all of this.

"Please, Mistress, I'm--" It's the gratitude, and recognizing the source of this headspace for what it is -- a friendship he cherishes, a feeling that had ceased to exist in him before Viggo came into his life, the bare astonishment at knowing this headspace is here for him again -- that has him so close he's near tears from it. "I'm close, please, very close. Oh, God..."

"Good boy," she croons again, letting her pride show in her voice. "Hold on for me." She carefully slides her hand out of him and grabs the plug, slamming it in as hard as she used her fist. And then she's scrambling off the bed, dragging first the glove and then the rest of her clothes off as quickly as she can.

_The break will give him a little time to get hungry again,_ she thinks as she unclips the thigh-ankle cuffs from each other and then from the bed. Another quick moment to roll a condom down over his erection and then she's straddling him and sinking down over his cock and hissing a little at the feel of it as she takes him in quickly.

One sensation after another after another, and if he were in any other place, Sean would be drowning in them. As it is, he can feel everything -- the shock of the plug, the slick roll of latex, and Carrie-Anne's warmth surrounding him. His eyes fix on her as he tries to arch his hips up against her. "Please," he whispers, "you feel so good, so fucking hot, and I want you so much..." He's not burning with the need to submit anymore; now that he's so firmly in that place, he can look at her and see Carrie-Anne, not just _Mistress_. And he smiles.

"I know you do," she says softly, beginning to ride him slowly. "And I want you too ... want to feel you under me ... want you to please me...." She's not sure where the words are coming from; it's still different than it is with Jason. But it's true, she wants to see Sean working to please her, wants not to own him but just take everything he's willing to give her.

"Yes," Sean breathes. "Everything... all of it... take me, please." And this, too, is familiar and new all at once: he can feel the edge of release, and knows how close he is to it, but he also knows he can hold back, keep from going over until she allows it. "Let me please you... begging you... please, Ma'am."

Sliding the hand still wearing the glove down between them, Carrie-Anne strokes her clit hard, letting her fingers glide over the base of Sean's cock every time she raises up. "Good boy .... such a lovely boy...." Her voice trails off, her breathing ragged as she finally comes, her head thrown back, dark hair tumbling around her shoulder. "Oh God yes!"

Sean's voice is quiet, maybe too quiet to hear. "Oh, God, you're beautiful," he breathes. "So beautiful." He's at a point where just watching her is enough to give him a deep sense of satisfaction, where he could go over at any moment but is content to rest here on the edge, unless she says otherwise.

Shivering a little, Carrie-Anne leans down and rests against Sean for just a moment before moving her hips again. "So beautiful," she moans, echoing Sean as she rapidly approaches orgasm again. And he is beautiful, bound beneath her like this, all of his energy bent on pleasing her.

_I want to see Liam like this for me,_ she suddenly thinks. She shoves the thought aside, however, not thinking it fair to think of one man while with another. "Come with me," she says. "Give it to me...." And she's coming again, crying out loudly this time and gone on the idea that Sean will give her such a powerful, primal response simply because she told him to.

Sean's eyes stay on Carrie-Anne, narrowing to slits as he comes, screaming, his entire body going rigid with the force of it. And as the initial shock passes, his body goes loose under her, aftershocks taking him hard and making him shiver underneath her. His throat is raw from the scream, and even that pain feels like heaven now. It's pain he'll take home as tribute to this scene, and be glad for it.

His eyes are shining as he comes down, as he catches his breath. "Oh, God, that was perfect," he whispers. "Thank you."

Blinking a little, Carrie-Anne wants nothing more than to collapse on him, but first she manages to reach up and hit the quick releases on the chains locking his wrist cuffs to the bed. "It was perfect," she says, pulling the light blanket up over them and snuggling up at his side. "And you were so very good for me, Sean. I'm so impressed with you, so proud of you." She brushes his damp hair off his forehead before kissing him lightly.

Sean wraps his arms around her and holds on tight. "I haven't been there... haven't been there in a long time. Didn't know I was going to get there today." He exhales softly against her skin, breathing in the faint scent of her sweat. "So glad. Glad I pleased you. Glad I could go there for you."

"Mmmm ... glad I could take you there. It's not what I expected today but it was lovely, just perfect." She hesitates and then adds, "It's a place I haven't gone for anyone but Jason in a very long time. Thank you for showing me that I could do it with someone other than my boy." She figures she doesn't need to spell it out for Sean; it was only Monday, after all, that she was all but crying on his shoulders over her issues with Liam.

"At the risk of bringing a terribly unpleasant name into a very pleasant bed..." Sean gives a half-laugh. "Thank you for showing me that I could do this with someone other than..." He shakes his head. "Your two loves are very lucky men. I'm so glad that you've found them."

"Oh," she whispers, extremely touched. "But ... what about Viggo?" She can't help asking it; after all, Sean only recently wore Viggo's collar.

"Viggo put me in a place where I could even think to explore submission again," Sean says. "This -- reminded me there was once headspace that made me think submission was something I could live in for the rest of my life." He lets his eyes close. "Might not want that now, but... now I know I can find it again when I'm ready to look."

"Thank you for allowing me in, then," she says, her voice gentle. "And it made me realize that my headspace isn't as reserved for one person as I thought it was." She laughs a little. "I think Liam may have cause to thank you too."

Sean chuckles. "Then I'm glad for both of you." He kisses her temple and nuzzles against her, smiling. "If you need anything for that, tell me... but I think you can take him. And I always have, really."

"I'm beginning to think that too," she says. She props herself up on one elbow for a minute before leaning down to kiss him again. "Viggo is a lucky man, you know. On top or on the bottom or even just talking after sex, you're a good man, Sean."

Touched, Sean strokes fingers down Carrie-Anne's cheek. "Thank you," he whispers. "I do feel the same way about you, you know. Well, apart from the obvious gender switch..."

Unable to help it, she laughs even as her eyes show her gratitude for his words. "Oh, I can occasionally be a good man too. Well ... a naughty boy at least."

"Andy," Sean teases, "what _have_ you been up to? Normally I'd think no news is good news, but in your case I can only imagine there's trouble behind the lack of stories."

Carrie-Anne pouts sullenly, slipping easily into the Andy persona. "I'm not coming out to play nearly enough lately."

"Now there's a shame. I seem to remember lines forming when Andy was available." Sean grins. "And I was in them."

"Well," Carrie-Anne replies in her own voice, "I think we'll be in LA around Christmas for the Peter Pan premier." She grins at Sean. "Maybe Andy can spend time with his Dad and Uncle then."

"I'd like that," Sean says. "Would like that very much." He struggles hard against it, but finds himself letting out a yawn. "Fuck," he mutters. "Damned genetics. D'you mind if I take a nap, love?"

"Not at all, hon," Carrie-Anne says snuggling in close. "I could do with a rest myself." She kisses him again and pulls the blanket up a little more. "Love you, Goober."

"I'm never going to live that down," Sean groans, but very good-naturedly. He settles down with Carrie-Anne and smiles as he drifts off to sleep.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This and its sequel are set in the universe of The Establishment, an RPG set in and around a secret kinky sex club. For more of Est!Sean, check out [Just Might Find](http://archiveofourown.org/series/1728) and [Train Wreck.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/1789)


End file.
